


Hammered

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: BDSM, Canon, Drama, Episode Related, Fluff, Gap Filler, No Slash, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-15
Updated: 2005-03-15
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: "It's a fucking machine," Brian eventually informed him. Porn, porn, porn; set during late-season three.





	Hammered

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

For the curious, **[this](http://www.fuckingmachines.com/meetthemachines/machine_hammer.php)** is The Hammer, in all of its not-work-safe, incredibly cheesily-named glory.

* * *

Justin had often heard the saying, "curiosity killed the cat", but he did not truly find a real-life example to parallel it to until his own curiosity (or rather, thinly-veiled noseyness) had found him snooping around the storage area in Brian's loft.

Most of the stuff he discovered was pretty basic: artifacts leftover from Brian's college days (and even a couple of high school yearbooks and plaques); a couple of shoeboxes filled with pictures, many of Brian and Michael and the other Novotnys and just a few of Brian's "real" family (all of which showcased a younger and decidedly unhappier version of his lover); and just a few old comics, toys, and articles of clothing, the likes of which Justin suspected meant a good deal more to Brian than he'd ever get him to admit. There was nothing of his up there, not even the blood-soaked white scarf that Brian had worn to his Prom and subsequently around his neck for over a month. Justin had never seen it again after they'd made love for the first time after he'd been bashed, but secretly, he didn't believe Brian had ever thrown it away. 

No, all of Justin's paraphernalia - his sketchbooks, his hooded sweatshirts, and the DVD of "Yellow Submarine" that Brian had bought him one day to replace the worn copy he'd taped off the television when he was eight - were either occupying space alongside Brian's stuff in the more lived-in parts of the loft (a visual indication that he was more Brian's present and future than his past, if e're there was one; something about that pleased Justin a great deal), or crowding up Daphne's apartment. It was kind of edged in everywhere there was a bit of space to be had, and after the full-on commitment he'd tried to make to Ethan that had blown up in his face, Justin was comfortable having more than one option available to him.

Truly, though, the most interesting item Justin found in his explorations was a large, clunky thing that could very well have been scrapped together as one of Brian's old Science Fair projects ... if Science Fair projects came with dildos attached to long poles that thrust back and forth at different speeds when the thing was turned on. Justin laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but, intrigued, made a mental note to ask Brian about it later.

"It's a fucking machine," Brian eventually informed him. "I caught a show at Meathook a few years ago; a couple of bears were really giving it to this hot guy they had strapped down. So I bought one the next day and invited some lucky guests over to try it out," he grinned.

Justin snorted. "It looked like something you threw together for shop class. I mean, what is that circular metal thing, an old pizza pan?"

"Hey, the Hammer is a fine piece of craftsmanship, Sunshine," Brian retorted, a playful gleam in his eye. "You want me to show you?" He reached out a hand and ruffled Justin's thick blond mane. "Your tight little ass in the air, on your hands and knees, your cock dripping ..."

"As tantalizing as that sounds," Justin intoned, disentangling himself from Brian's grasp, "I've got a school project to do. You know, that place you went so many, many eons ago," he continued, laughing and ducking as Brian reached out a hand to swat at him.

"Take that back, you little twat," Brian growled.

Justin grinned. "Don't worry, old man," he teased. "I'll still think you're hot, even when you're ancient enough to have Gus' high school yearbooks in storage." He sauntered off upstairs, leaving Brian in quiet contemplation on the couch.

-*-

Many hours later, Justin had finished studying for an upcoming exam and putting the final touches on an assignment for his other class. Usually, he had a larger workload, but given that he was interning at Vanguard, time spent on campus that term had been significantly decreased. He stretched and made his way to the shower, sighing as the water pulsed over his muscles, sore from being stuck in the same position intermittently throughout the evening. He half-expected Brian to hear the shower running and come upstairs to join him, but he never did. 'Maybe he's working on a new account or something', Justin thought as he toweled himself off.

As if on cue, Brian meandered into the bathroom, still fully clothed and barefoot, and stepped up behind Justin, glancing at their shared reflection in the large mirror over the sink. "Hey," Justin greeted.

"Hey, yourself," Brian said, running long fingers up Justin's sides. His hands slid over the boy's forearms, and he dipped his head and pressed sharp kisses to Justin's throat and jaw. Justin moaned, just before Brian shoved their mouths together; his tongue traced Justin's teeth and gums, lingering on his lips as he pulled away, and Justin didn't even notice Brian maneuvering him into the bedroom at first. "I just got clean," he complained with a small, breathless laugh.

"You're done with your homework, now," Brian said in a low voice. "I thought you could learn a different kind of lesson." Justin wasn't sure what he meant, but then he saw the roll of duct tape sitting on Brian's nightstand, and combined with the ominous tone of voice, it clicked in his head. 

"B-Brian, no," he tensed, suddenly realizing that his arms were being pulled behind his back. "Brian!" he yelped; he made an attempt to struggle but had been caught too much by surprise and Brian had him pinned down on the bed before he knew what hit him. He inhaled the scent of his lover as his face pressed against the duvet, squirming when he heard the duct tape being unrolled. Brian smacked his ass, leaving a light stinging sensation. 

"Hold still, Justin," he commanded in a soft, dangerous tone, and began winding the tape around Justin's wrists several times. He stepped away to admire his handy-work, and Justin tried to flex his arms, now secured tautly behind him. A hand cupped his cheek and turned his head to the side, and Justin stared up at Brian, whose eyes glinted with lust. "Brian," he tried again.

"There will be no talking during this lesson, Justin," Brian said firmly, pulling off another strip of tape and ripping it with his teeth. Justin realized what it was meant for and tried to turn his head away again, but Brian held it in place long enough to seal the tape firmly over his mouth. "That's a good boy," he murmured, smoothing the ends down with his fingers. "We're going to have fun," he purred in that same damnably low voice. "This 'old man' is going to teach you a few new tricks."

So that's what this was about, Justin thought. He chanced a look at Brian's face again, relieved that it showed no signs of anger; rapt fascination, certainly, but nothing that made him feel unsafe. He trusted Brian wholeheartedly, even when he wasn't sure where this was going. 

"Come on, up we go," Brian cajoled, hauling Justin to his feet. Justin felt himself being pulled flush against Brian's chest, Brian mouth tickling the shell of his ear, and he let out a small moan. Brian led him out into the living room area, and Justin could feel him smiling wickedly against the side of his face. Taking in the slight rearrangements Brian had made to the room while he was upstairs, he realized why. One of the couch cushions was lying on the floor, next to a medium-sized metal pole and a length of rope. And, most tellingly, The Hammer was sitting in the middle of the room, Brian's coffee table pushed off to the side to accomodate its size. Justin felt a shiver run down his spine, the sensation pooling in his groin. It wasn't entirely unpleasant - far from it, actually, and Brian must have noticed the slight shift in his demeanor, because he chuckled. 

"I knew as soon as you mentioned it that I wanted to fuck you with this," he murmured throatily. "You ready to be Hammered, Sunshine?" He ran his fingers purposefully down Justin's chest, flicking his nipples, making the boy's stomach muscles constrict. They didn't talk much during the preparation, aside from an occasional, "spread your legs a little wider, Justin", or a reassuring "very good," accompanied by a hand caressing Justin's lower back. Eventually, he found himself laying partially across the couch cushion, arms pinioned behind his back, his head and shoulders resting comfortably on the large pillow. His legs were separated and tied with rope at either end with the spreader bar, and his ass was positioned upwards, his hole fluttering occasionally as cool air passed over it. 

He looked, Brian would tell him later, debauched and delectable.

"So hot," Brian murmured; he walked around where Justin was unable to see him; he could, however, hear Brian kneeling behind him. "You're turned on by this, too, aren't you, Justin?" he asked, wrapping his hand around Justin's not-exactly-flaccid dick to emphasize his point. He rubbed his thumb across the head, coaxing a drop of pre-come from the slit, and Justin moaned, thrusting his hips forward, already desperate for more contact. His cock was positioned strategically above the couch cushion, suspended just high enough so he'd be unable to rub against anything. "Mmmgh," he growled behind the tape; Brian noted his frustration and merely placed his hands on either side of Justin's slim hips, much to his dismay.

"Patience is a virtue, Sunshine," he sing-songed, then blew cool air along the boy's crack. Justin's moaning grew louder, ending up a muffled shriek as Brian shoved his tongue into his asshole. He wiggled it expertly, a true connoisseur of both giving and receiving rimjobs, and Justin gasped and grunted and keened at the sensations the hot, wet intruder left in its wake. His hips still held firmly in place, he felt small spasms ripple through him; his cock was dripping freely, now, and he whimpered, hoping to convey through his makeshift gag how much he wanted - no, how much he fucking *needed* - Brian to suck him or stroke him or fuck him, right fucking then, goddammit. So when Brian pulled away seconds later, he let out an angry curse. 

"You're not getting off that easily," Brian responded smoothly, laughing at his obvious frustration. He pushed two fingers inside Justin's dampened hole, pleased to feel Justin's ass clench around them only momentarily before allowing entrance. "In fact," he continued, pulling the digits free and cupping the pert, impossibly round ass cheeks in front of him. "I'd say you won't be getting off for a good, long time, little boy." Justin's cock twitched in response; he grunted, hoping Brian could see him glaring.

 

He heard something sliding across the floor next, and tensed anew when he felt something blunt - and sticky; Brian must have already broken the lubricant out - rubbing against his ass again. It was too cold to be Brian's cock, and he realized it was the dildo attached to the Hammer. He heard Brian fiddling with it, waiting for the inevitable penetration and shivering when he felt Brian's fingertips flicking over his balls. His cock was positively aching now, erect and dripping and remaining untouched; he figured Brian knew exactly how crazy it was making him, too.

And then the machine whirred to life, and Justin momentarily lost the ability to form rational thoughts. The dildo slid into his ass with agonizing slowness, eased out, and then rammed back in at the same damnably mechanized speed. He let out a small sob and rutted back against it, rubbing his cheek against the couch cushion in futile frustration. "Mmmph," he cried out, biting at the tape. Brian sauntered around to face him again, eventually, and the smug smile on his face made Justin want to kick him ... or beg Brian to fuck the shit out of him, either way. 

Brian licked his lips and drank in the sight of his lover, splayed decoratively, bucking and squirming and emitting the hottest, most gutteral noises he'd ever heard. He rubbed himself intentionally through his clothing, the tight, black jeans he wore doing nothing to hide his sizable erection. Justin's gaze was rapt, his eyes flashing and nostrils flaring occasionally as he moaned and writhed, his breathing particularly erratic compared to the slow, measured pumping of the machine. 

"You're so hot like this, Justin," he murmured. "So fucking wanton and open. You'd probably do anything to come about now, wouldn't you?" He unzipped his jeans and gripped his cock, rubbing it between his fingers in lazy circles. Justin quivered and groaned quietly, gazing up at him pleadingly. "You won't, you know," he continued. "Not until I say so. I could keep you on the edge for hours if I wanted." He climbed onto the couch cushion, knees making indents in the soft surface, still gripping his cock. "Do you want to come, Justin?" he whispered, rubbing his dick along the edges of the tape gag. Justin nodded his head furiously, letting out a low wail as Brian continued running his cock along the boy's cheeks and chin and jaw. A thin line of pre-come was left in its wake, and Brian smudged it with his thumb. 

He lifted the edge of the strip of tape as gently as he could and peeled it gingerly away from Justin's skin; the area underneath it was somewhat inflamed - Justin's skin was just so fucking sensitive - but it would heal quickly. Justin gulped in mouthfuls of air, panting needily, almost to the point where he was hyperventilating. "Brian," he gasped, breath catching in his throat as the machine rammed into him again relentlessly. "God, Brian, please."

"Please what, Justin?" Brian simpered, swiping his cock over Justin's now parted lips. Justin playfully tried to lick the head, but his own mobility was still quite limited. He growled when Brian left a spot of jizz on his chin. "You want me to let you come, little boy?" Brian teased. "Are you going to make me come?" 

"Fuck," Justin half-sobbed. "W-whatever you want, Brian."

"Ah, but what do you want? Tell me," Brian coaxed. He ran his free hand through a tuft of thick hair, forcing Justin to look at him.

"To c-come," he gasped, wailing when Brian still did nothing. "Fucking let me come!" he finally yelled, quite certain that he would die if his request wasn't granted right then. 

Brian just chuckled infuriatingly. "Why didn't you just say so?" He raised up on his knees and climbed purposefully over his lover, straining to reach the small control panel on the Hammer. Justin could smell Brian's intoxicating scent directly over him, a mixture of semen and sweat and just Brian, and it inflamed his senses even more, if such a thing were even possible. "Since you've been such a good boy," Brian crooned, "I think that can be arranged." He pushed a button and immediately, the whirring sound grew louder and more persistent. The mechanical thrusting had increased significantly in speed, and so did the volume of Justin's groaning and grunting. 

"Fuck," he hissed, the familiar build-up in his groin a welcome reprieve. He felt Brian's hand on his face, angling his head, and opened his mouth eagerly as the older man fed him his cock. Justin moaned around the thick member, taking as much of it in as he could, crinkling his nose when it was tickled by Brian's pubes. He swirled his tongue along the shaft, sucking faster and faster as the machine brought him closer and closer to orgasm. He came, at long last, a few moments later, his cries of relief muffled by the cock in his mouth. 

He was deep-throating Brian's dick, now, the older man's balls bumping against his chin, and Justin could sense that Brian was about to come. He readied himself to swallow the release, something he'd done ever since the first time he'd been on the giving end of a blow-job. But Brian surprised him at the last second by pulling out completely and, with a couple of flicks of his thumb over the head, was coming all over his face. Justin closed his eyes against the spurts of jizz, licking a few stray drops that had fallen on and around his mouth. He waited until Brian's fingers wiped at his eyelids before opening them again, pleased to see that Brian looked as sated and exhausted and fucking amazingly beautiful as he was sure he was.

"Well," Brian finally said, effectively breaking the short silence. "That was hot."

"Mmm," Justin agreed, longing to stretch his arms again now that the need for release was not all-pervasive. Brian leaned over him once more to shut the Hammer's motor off, and began removing the tape and rope. "And okay," he continued begrudgingly, "you're very spry for an old man." Brian grunted and smacked his ass. 

He helped clean up the mutual mess that had been made, sighing as he set the Hammer back in its original resting place in the storage area. If the pain in his ass was any indication, it wasn't going to be an everyday accessory in their sexual repertoire. He joined Brian in the shower, the second one for him that evening, this time merely luxuriating underneath the hot spray. It was comforting, he thought, that even if the bath was one of Justin's favorite places to fuck, that he and Brian simply enjoy each other's company in it, as well. He brushed his teeth before leaving the bathroom, as well, smiling to himself as he placed his toothbrush next to Brian's in the ceramic holder. 

He made sure all of his homework was packed, taking special pains to sharpen a few of his writing utensils and throwing out a couple of pages of notes for a now-completed drawing that he no longer needed. One of the perks of fucking the boss was the ride to work in the morning; still, Brian was a stickler for being punctual, and he knew the older man would be grumpy if he didn't have his shit together when it was time to leave. Eventually, he checked to make sure the alarm clock was set and climbed into bed alongside Brian, already nestled underneath the duvet. He did that a lot after their more risque sexual exploits; communication between them was never awkward, but it was, at times, a tad nonexistant. Two years ago, Justin would have taken whatever scrap of attention Brian threw at him, like an eager puppy more than a sort-of-boyfriend; a few months prior, he would have seen Brian's inability to verbally convey how he felt as an inability to care. But Justin knew better, now; he knew Brian wasn't just stringing him along, wasn't just playing games. He merely spoke best without saying anything at all - Justin just had to know how to listen to the silence.

"Brian?" he whispered, sidling up to the other man and nuzzling his neck. In the dark, he could barely make out Brian's eyes glinting as they blinked open sleepily. "We ought to send those bears at the Meathook a personal thank-you card," he giggled. 

"Maybe we'll give them front-row seats sometime," Brian agreed, always the most open to suggestions in the last moments before he drifted off to sleep. 

"Yeah," Justin laughed. He hesitated before asking his next question, but quickly pressed on: "so have *you* ever allowed yourself to be Hammered?"

"Mmmph," Brian murmured noncommitally, wrapping an arm sluggishly around the boy's shoulders, and Justin knew he'd reached his limit for the evening. Brian kissed his forehead. "Night, Sunshine."

"Goodnight," Justin replied, yawning and burrowing next to Brian's warmth. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself for the umpteenth time that night, making a mental note to coax Brian to open up to him in the future, in more ways than one.


End file.
